


Anticipation

by kwunkwun



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cliffhangers, Drabble Collection, M/M, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwunkwun/pseuds/kwunkwun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junpei looked hungry. Well, ‘hungry’ was probably the closest description Akihiko could think of at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pulse

Junpei looked hungry. Well, ‘hungry’ was probably the closest description Akihiko could think of at the moment. And really, it wasn’t easy to think when he was staring down into a pair of very dilated dark gray eyes while the thudding pulse at the inside of Junpei’s wrist was burning underneath Akihiko’s palm.

He couldn’t remember how they had ended up precariously sprawled over one of the sofas in the lounge. He couldn’t remember how their mouths had ended up colliding with such a clumsy but eager force that his lips were still smarting.

The tsunami-like, empowering rush of adrenalin and anticipation when his fist was about to connect with his very first shadow –Akihiko was feeling something like that now. But the cause of it was Junpei’s scent, the dizzying heat from his body, and it made him feel incomprehensibly, irritatingly, helpless.

Akihiko knew: if Junpei made the next move, he was a goner.


	2. Breath

Inhale.

Junpei closes his eyes and counts to ten as those alabaster fingers sink –languidly, teasingly, into him.

Exhale.

The jagged breath that escapes from his lips is punctuated with the smallest of whimpers.

Akihiko notices. The soft smile on his lips is deceptively saccharine, worse than a smirk. He always wears this smile when Junpei proposes a challenge that he is likely to lose.

It is as if Akihiko completely forgets how to be embarrassed whenever they turn sex into a competition.

Although he is the one doing the straddling, Junpei feels oddly vulnerable. Perhaps it is the bareness of the evening chill upon his skin. He is used to the feeling of soft bed sheets beneath his back, the heat of Akihiko's chest against his own –but that memory is never far away from his mind, because the slow glide of the boxer's hand along the length of his thigh is meant to soothe as much as it is meant to arouse.

Still, this is a competition. Akihiko's fingers do not pause as he remarks: "that wasn't ten seconds."

"No, it was more like twelve," Junpei retorts.

Akihiko lets him win that one – _maybe_ –Junpei guesses that it is because he is too distracted by the wet sound that his body makes as he pushes back against Akihiko's digits, driving his knuckles past that first ring of muscle.

Desire flickers in Akihiko's eyes; he impatiently shift his hips, bumping their cocks together. Junpei laughs breathlessly and wraps one hand around both of their arousals, lazily stroking as Akihiko works him open.

"There's no way you can hold your breath for more than thirty seconds," Akihiko maintains, some playfully agitating minutes later.

"Oh yeah?" Junpei counters. "Watch me."

He inhales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Pixiv, there is an Akijun doujinshi where Akihiko reflects on how Junpei doesn't have a very good lung capacity as they're making out. I guess I was kind of inspired by that, as well as by the idea of throwing in some suggested sexual asphyxiation of sorts. "How long can you hold your breath while we're having sex?" is the kind of competition they're doing, but now that I put it out there, it sounds pretty dangerous, so I hope Junpei doesn't die... It's amazing how that tiny paragraph already took a lot out of me. Hopefully the next drabble won't be as short as this one, once I remember how to write fanfics again.


	3. Fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akihiko takes Junpei to some fine dining for his birthday.

Junpei couldn't fricking believe it.

It was _Sanada-san's_ birthday, but the boxer had apparently got everything planned out for the two of them, weeks beforehand.

After coming home from work, Akihiko had urged Junpei to put on a suit, thrown him in a taxi, and took him to some fancy-ass hotel the name of which he couldn't even pronounce.

Sitting opposite his upperclassmen in an intimate corner of the restaurant, Junpei had been in a daze, shoveling _Flamiche_ and _Steak au Poivre_ and _Clafoutis_ into his mouth without tasting anything while Akihiko quietly, serenely watched him from across the table with his fork poised over a fond smile.

What was it –the glittering light from the chandeliers turning Akihiko's hair a twinkling silver, the lustre of wine sliding down his raised glass as Akihiko drank? There was something surreal about this moment, seeing his partner as if in high-definition under the oversaturated lights.

Hours went by without him noticing, and Akihiko had took his hand after dinner, leading him to the elevators, into their room, asking him about his day as he usually did as they washed together.

"You're being awfully quiet," Akihiko observed as he brushed Junpei's damp bangs out of his eyes.

Junpei took a moment to respond. "It's _your_ birthday. But you've been doing all the wooing and taking me to a fancy dinner and a five-star hotel. And you _know_ I'm gonna need a loan to pay for these –yes, I _know_ you're paying for it all, but the point is that I want to do it but I can't."

Akihiko, too, took a moment to process the rushed confession. Gently, he rapped his knuckles against the side of Junpei's head.

"Actually, the point is that I wanted to spoil you for my birthday," he argued. "You're overanalysing this. But thank you, Junpei. That's sweet."

Growling (as he always did when he was trying not to blush at Akihiko's maudlin lines), he pressed Akihiko into the mattress and settled between his thighs.

"Then at the very least," Junpei proposed, "let me make you feel good tonight."

It would have sounded sexier and more appealing if his voice hadn't been shaking and a few pitches higher, but Akihiko only smiled, letting his head fall back against the pillow.

Junpei exhaled slowly, his heart already hammering in his ribcage at his partner's response. Those strong arms, too, were splayed out at Akihiko's sides, his palms upturned in a subtle display of submission.

Akihiko's lips parted slowly, languidly like a morning tulip, when Junpei lowered his head to initiate an open-mouthed kiss. He slid his tongue past Akihiko's teeth, stroking his gums, the walls of his mouth and his tongue, tasting the lingering mix of wine and crème brûlée.

He sucked on his neck and his collarbone, leaving an occasional red welt to decorate the zig-zagging trail of teeth and tongue. Akihiko's chest was rising and falling with his quickening breath, and the damp towel around his waist was already slipping away as his penis began to harden.

Junpei watched the flush on Akihiko's cheeks spread down his neck and to his chest as his fingertips circled the skin around Akihiko's nipples. The skin began to pull, contracting around the hardening, maroon nubs. Akihiko didn't struggle underneath him, but the desperation was only half-disguised in his lust-darkened eyes, and he was gnawing on his bottom lip, hard enough to bruise.

Junpei swallowed and began to roll one nipple between his index and thumb while he stroked down the toned stomach with his free hand. The towel was nudged out of the way, and Junpei's brain nearly short-circuited at how his partner spread his thighs further apart in unabashed permission. The wispy dark gray of Akihiko's pubic hair was warm and damp under his fingers; the base of his penis even warmer. Akihiko's ardent moan as he gave him a firm stroke made Junpei's arousal twitch keenly.

Whilst continuing to work the shaft, Junpei lubricated his fingers and stroked the soft skin under Akihiko's testis. He was hesitant, but Akihiko's smile was patient and inviting.

That smile only widened as Junpei circled, then began to press in. How Akihiko could still look so saccharine when he was being worked apart was as arousing as it was baffling –in fact, Junpei was so hard that it was becoming difficult to concentrate on his task.

A slight resistance gave away to vice-like wet heat as his knuckles slid past the rings of muscle.

He could barely hear the melodious tenor of Akihiko's panting cries over the pulse that was pumping in his head like a cacophony of timpanis.

Lining his cock to Akihiko's prepared entrance, Junpei forced himself to look away to gain some composure. The green flash of the digital clock at the bedside table read 11:59:57, anchoring him to this moment, this evidence of the 5 years – and hopefully more –that he and Akihiko shared.

"Before I forget –happy birthday, Sanada-san," he said, offering a lopsided grin. "Love you."

Akihiko answered with a reverential smile. "I love you too. Now don't forget to keep fucking me."

"Roger that," Junpei whispered, and pushed in.


End file.
